The Gift
by Razorblade Mistress
Summary: Aina Oshiro, native to NGL, recklessly pursues a fleeting love to Yorkshin and is forbidden from returning home. Overwhelmed, she turns to drug abuse until one night she is spared during a multiple murder at a party. Despite Aina's new resolve, it seems that perhaps her "savior the executioner" is not everything she'd hoped, and his world is just as far out of reach as her own...
1. Prologue

My insecurities were quickly fading, and the defined lines between fact and fiction were rapidly becoming no longer so noticeably apparent. Typically I was capable of holding out for a good five days or so before the cravings would wait no more to be fed, but since Miwa's passing perhaps a month earlier I found myself indulging as often as every second day so long as I was able to find a source so frequently.

I supposed a lot of things had changed during that presumably short lapse of time. It seemed I also needed higher dosages these days. One line used to be enough for my buzz to last a solid hour; now I was lucky if it lasted for half that amount of time. In order to reach my goal, I had to double or sometimes even triple my ordinary intake, not that it bothered me apart from the increase of things I had to do in order to obtain it. I crashed harder, too; experiencing an agonizing sum of misery to drown me in the murky cesspool that was my day to day life before sleep thankfully smothered me.

What day was it exactly? I did not know anymore and it hardly occurred to me to wonder beyond the occasional passing of the thought. I did not think to count hours or days in particular, just the stretch of time approximately since Miwa had died. To be honest I could have been entirely wrong as far as measuring that went too without a way to keep reasonable track of it…

No one would believe that maybe a mere three years ago I was living in NGL with my family, going about my daily chores and engaged to one day be married to a neighbor boy of my age who was living in the same village. Yorkshin was a far cry from my upbringing and certainly would have my family outraged if they could see where its influence had landed me now. Then again, they had actively taken part ensuring that I was forbidden from ever returning home, so perhaps they simply would not care and had only expected as much from me.

The music was blaring, and before my inhibitions had seeped away in a flash of white it had seemed both intimidating and deafening. As my confidence increased and my energy finally picked up, I inwardly gave thanks for running across these yuppies. Perhaps it was a man's world but being a woman, I'd learned, had its advantages. No one here would care that I was currently homeless and at a point that I required nothing more than simply this rush of excitement and self assurance that I could never claim in any other way.

As usual, I was approached quite hastily by a young man with wildly scattered hair and a severely loosened tie. He was older than I was by probably a good ten years (and obviously far more buzzed), but that was to be expected. After all, I had only just turned eighteen this year. It _was_ this year I had turned eighteen, wasn't it? I assumed so, anyway.

He led me to a dark room that smelled of sweat and other even less modest bodily fluids and functions. The first time I had been appalled, but now this was nothing more than routine. I was here without any form of payment, and so this was my fate. I used to need them to strip me before lying down, but now I could do it myself.

I was grateful for the excess of energy, as I was more likely to be invited to stick around for longer if I was enthusiastic during the act. It appeared that they usually liked loud girls, too, and so that was also working in my favor.

That's not to say that I was upset for having to sleep with them. After all, it was especially exciting while I was already feeling beyond elated. The problem would come after I crashed…

* * *

I woke up unsure of where I was. That was not an uncommon occurrence for me however, so I almost never panicked anymore. My fluid-covered body ached terribly and my inner thighs stung. There was a burning between my legs that was nearly unbearable, but not unforeseen. This was merely a part of the cross that was assigned to me when I left my old life behind me in the dust. There was a man above me; a different man than before (or so said the notable contrast in scents from the last), and he was inside me and moving.

These scenarios had frightened me initially; made me feel unutterably vulnerable, but now I hardly even distinguished it as rape anymore. I was thankful to have been asleep for the greater portion of it, and of course this stranger was likely not the first this evening to have indulged while I was passed out. I held still the way I had learned to do, not wanting to feel his wrath in case his fetish was for this situation in particular. It was best to simply let him do what he wanted. He would leave afterwards.

Above the repetitive loop of chords blasting from the main room, I could suddenly hear screaming. I would have ignored it had it come from only one person, but it appeared to have actually initialized from multiple sources. Mad thumping and stomping sounds successfully distracted me from my present state.

The door flung open, pouring too much light into the blackened room all at once. The man atop me gasped- an ugly, catching noise- and then collapsed onto me, the stench of blood radiating from his open mouth and presumably the liquid itself flooding over my exposed chest.

'_He's…dead…_'

My limbs were weighted and tainted with exhaustion, but even so I managed to push him off me and grasp the already soiled sheets to desperately clean the fluid from my breasts. As I glanced down at the motionless body I noticed an array of objects protruding from the back of his skull. The blinding light reflected back in shining white bursts over the decorative knobs of several needles.

'_Murder…_'

Adrenaline fueled me now and I scrambled to put distance between myself and the body, tripping over the trailing sheet as I attempted to land my feet upon the floor. I fell hard, knocking my forehead against the hardwood with enough force that a crackle of light flashed before my eyes and the ground began to tilt and sway slowly from beneath me. It was only then that I finally noticed that the alleged assailant was still poised with pins at the ready in the doorway.

His black eyes inspected me as he looked at and through me while I twitched and fumbled upon the ground. Even while facing the darkness, his flesh was pale enough that it appeared inhumanly illuminated. His shoulders were broad and his hair below his waist and free-flowing. For a moment my mind wandered, considering my own neglected and once wavy, filthy ash blonde locks that hung in greasy strings midway down my back.

I could hear my heart pounding in my ears, telling me something I had not known until now; I did not want to die here.

It was not that I had wanted to nobly take my own life in an admirable streak of crimson, but more so that particularly since Miwa's overdose I had wanted to follow after her. I had lived as one who wanted death but was too afraid to deal it.

Yet now, in front of this murderer, I knew I did not want to die. I also knew that I did not want to live in death's shadow any longer.

'_I want to live_,' my mind whispered softly. A single tear slipped silently down my cheek.

If he sensed my reaction, his expression did not show it. Instead, he simply pocketed his weapons and turned on his heel, disappearing from sight through a chorus of whimpers and shrieking. Was he not going to kill all the witnesses?

'_I'm alive…_'

My body relaxed, the tears coming full force now. Nothing else mattered now except for the fact that he, _my savior the executioner_, had spared me and allowed me to live…

…And I would be sure to make the most of this opportunity, and of course make it my mission to thank him for the ultimate gift which he had granted me.


	2. New Resolve

"So let me get this straight; you want me to help you find some guy that killed almost an entire house full of people almost four years ago… so you can _thank_ him?"

Yusei was the type of person that reveled in his family status and often indulged in the elitist attitude of his upbringing, despite the fact that he too had spent years in the same rehabilitation clinic. In truth, he had begun treatment a good two years before I had arrived, and his official release date was almost a full three weeks after mine. Not that it hadn't taken me a decent while to overcome the cries of my own addictions, as it had (much to my honest surprise) cost me nearly four years to conquer that which it had only taken me two years to develop.

Nevertheless he had become an intimate part of my life since then, taking reign as my best and only friend and even going so far as to pull strings in order to convince his family to act as my financial sponsors, allowing me the funding crucial to my ongoing recovery.

Money was not something I was used to handling, both in regards to my roots in NGL and my three years of acquiring substances through prostitution. At the time, the latter scenario had merely seemed a convenient trade, and trading goods and services was a far less foreign concept to me than trying to understand the principle of "currency".

"Yes, that's right," I agreed, nodding.

His features became short and yet animatedly exaggerated; his eyes somehow at once wide and narrow. He seemed to realize the commonality in his reaction, and quite abruptly cleared his throat and corrected his posture.

"Ai-chan, you're a strange girl," he murmured, rubbing the back of his neck.

The statement was probably true. On occasion I disliked the reminder of my handicap as far as my ignorance of society went; this happened to be one of those times.

Glancing at my feet, I whispered somewhat bitterly, "In NGL, _you_ would be considered the strange one."

His head popped up a little too quickly; brown eyes scanning me.

"I didn't mean anything by it. No need to be so sensitive, Ai-chan."

I still wasn't particularly accustomed to the notion of "endearing insults", either. Furthermore, my mother and father had called me "_Ai-chan_" until the day I was prohibited from ever returning home. Looking back on it, there was a distinct possibility that this unintentional reminder was the source of my sensitivity at the time.

"Will you help me or not?" I asked with misguided frustration.

Yusei frowned upon hearing the coldness in my tone for long enough that I had sensed it before he could cover it up with a self-satisfied smirk.

"Why do you need _my_ help, anyway?" he pressed in a voice that suggested his need for an unnecessary ego-stroking.

Of course, he did know very well my reasoning for requesting his assistance. Yusei was part of the infamous Nakahara family, known apparently far beyond simply Yorkshin for their great wealth and limitless connections. Initially they had gained their fortune through stocks, and while this remained the outward foundation for their continuing successes, it was rumored that their allies included a vast collection of worldwide political leaders as well as extensive mafia influences. With such an incredible variety of sources, I was almost certain to locate my murderer savior.

That had become my sole obsession; the one that fueled me to heal from the realms of darkness and obscurity. I owed this man my life, now in more ways than one, and while I could see that Yusei was incapable of understanding my perspective the way that I supposed most "first world" inhabitants were unable to, I was still attached to my initial moral code in some way. Perhaps he could only consider a man who kills as criminal, but to me it was more important to show gratefulness and to give thanks where thanks were due. No matter the background of the man who had appeared that night, he had granted me a new resolve to reinstate my passion for life.

Nature kills indiscriminately and still we share its territory. Humanity is a product of nature, in all its glory and shortcomings. That is the way of my homeland of NGL. I would not ever be willing to give this part of myself to Yorkshin. Its echoes danced below my very flesh and were wound about my beating heart, pumping it through each course of pulsing blood.

I would thank my savior; the executioner.

"Yusei-san-…"

"I was pulling your leg," he interrupted, plucking a thin cigarette from an engraved, golden case and slipping it between his lips. He ignited a small flame from a large, squared lighter and mumbled through the filter, "I'll see what I can do, Ai-chan, but I'm not making any promises based on just a physical description of someone you say you only saw in the dark."

I smiled modestly.

"You'll be able to find him," I insisted.

Exhaling a long stream of bluish smoke, he warned, "People change, you know. Even if your description is spot-on, there's no telling what he might look like now... and that's assuming he's even still alive."

I couldn't dwell on his statement, lest I would lose a significant amount of confidence. That in itself would prove more detrimental than anything.

Truthfully, I hadn't even considered the possibility of someone changing their appearance, as there weren't nearly as many convenient means of doing so back home. One looked more or less the same his or her whole life there.

The idea of my savior's possible death I refused even to entertain.

"Thank you, Yusei-san," I said, bowing my head low to him before turning on my heel.

He grumbled something incoherent that sounded doubtful in response.

"I look forward to hearing from you," I added in a fairly curt manner over my shoulder as I stalked away from him, unwilling to allow any further liabilities to enter into my resolve.


	3. NGL (1)

**A/N:**** Dedicating this chapter to Ria D'Arcy. You're the reason I haven't deleted this and continue to write it haha XD Thanks for your constant support!**

* * *

The sound of my footfalls echoed back to me as I ascended the fifth consecutive stairwell to reach my bachelor suite. My steps were more quickly paced than they typically might have been, though this day I felt there was great purpose for such. It had been a full week since I had last conversed with Yusei, and I was certain that today there would be critical feedback awaiting me.

It probably would have been much faster to simply take the elevator to my floor, but in my excitement I had forgotten about it entirely. To be fair, I hadn't had all that much experience using them.

I nearly collapsed through the heavy door following a none-too-graceful trip over the final two concrete stairs. At the last possible moment, I managed to swing my arms in such a way that my balance was regained in time to push onward for the door near the end of the hall numbered five-twenty-four.

Hardly able to insert my room key at the rate my trembling hands were moving, I fumbled for a moment before rotating my wrist and throwing wide the door on its hinges. It bounced against the wall and slammed closed behind me. I bumped carelessly into a chair or two before diving over the armrest of the couch, stretching my limbs over the length of it and stabbing at the large grey button on the side table next to the land-line telephone.

A robotic voice announced, "No new messages," followed by a high frequency beep.

My muscles instantly weighted themselves, and in a frantic moment of utter disbelief, I crawled forward and pressed the dial repeatedly, each time the same result playing out as the last. I could almost feel the sensation of my heart dropping into the pit of my stomach in disappointment.

* * *

I pushed the last heaping spoonful of canned, vegetable soup through my parted lips before reaching for the television remote control. With a sloppily aimed _click_, I silenced the news reporter mid-sentence and tossed the gadget onto the coffee table before me. I had invested so much energy and optimism into the idea that Yusei had found my savior that facing the reality of the situation had caused my mood to suffer and to plummet from its earlier heights.

My gaze rolled about the suite, landing upon the small, circular dining table and chairs (that I rarely bothered to use) adjacent to the refrigerator. I never entertained guests anyway, save for Yusei on occasion. In fact, I did not really know anyone else well enough to invite them into my personal space.

Switching off the lamp on the opposite side table, I dragged the fleece blanket up and over my shoulders, resting my head on the decorative couch pillow. Beyond the silence of the room, the restless sounds of Yorkshin seemed to come alive. Distant voices, loud bass lines, and screaming sirens were my lullaby, and a disgruntled sigh escaped me as the scent of dirty, urban rain wafted in through my open window.

At times these daily occurrences still seemed overwhelming to me. Deep down there was a part of me that was too proud to ever admit aloud that I dearly missed home and desperately yearned to be able to return there. Perhaps this fact was ironic, as the reason I had traveled all this way to Yorkshin was influenced by a feeling of boredom, smothering, and a desire for more than I thought my simple lifestyle in NGL could ever offer me…

* * *

As a child I had never questioned the reality I was presented with. It made perfect sense in the realms of itself, or so I had believed. I picked berries with my younger sister, Suki, and believed in the potential of my older brother, Isamu. My mother and father were strict and hardworking, and my neighbor and best friend, Kota, was to be my husband once we came of age.

I was innocent and happy then, and life was simple and rewarding. I had never dreamed of the world beyond NGL as I believed that NGL _was_ the whole world. I helped mother cook dinner and avoided tourists, whom my parents had warned me were dangerous.

One month prior to my tenth birthday, I was sent to collect water for my household. As I dipped the end into the clear stream, an unfamiliar reflection alongside mine startled me. I spent a moment or two wildly swinging my arms to regain balance on the small patch of shore, though I did not succeed in keeping grip on the container.

Much to my surprise, once I had steadied myself the man whose reflection I had seen was holding out the sack I'd dropped. His eyes were clear and blue and his face cleanly shaven. I was hesitant to take it from him, and he seemed to notice so quite quickly.

"Did you make this?"

His voice was smooth and slightly accented. I was fascinated at the foreign nature of it, and of his appearance as well. He wore large, laced, black boots over pants that matched his collared shirt. They were oddly patterned in a way that I then understood had allowed him to blend in with the foliage and thus approach me without my knowing.

I shook my head in response to his question.

"Did your father make it?"

I nodded, studying him for any signs of the danger that I always anticipated from people that did not live in my village.

He smiled a pearly white, dazzling smile and gently set the sack at my feet.

"I've never seen anything like it before. Do you know what it's made out of?"

I stared at him out of wide, hazel eyes, my curiosity increasing with each passing second.

His face fell slightly as he questioned in a concerned voice, "Are you able to talk?"

I scrunched my face.

"I mean, do you _know_ _how_?"

My head tilted at the strange inquiry that I did not particularly understand the purpose of. Were there many people that could not talk besides babies?

A sad smile wove itself into his features and he tipped his hat while turning away to leave.

"It's made from Taurus bladder," I whispered in a higher frequency than usual.

In an instant he was facing me once more, a stunned look claiming his expression in such an exaggerated fashion that I nearly giggled at the sight.

"Oh, so you _were_ just shy," he said.

I shook my head and withdrew the majority of my cheeks into my long, ashy blonde locks for comfort.

"Why didn't you answer then?"

With a sheepish grin, I explained, "I'm not supposed to talk to strangers…"

His eyes softened.

"That's good advice. Did your mother tell you that?"

"Isamu," I corrected him.

He borrowed a moment to look mildly confused before replying, "Well, Isamu is smart to say that." He bowed to me and then firmly raised the side of a flattened hand to his forehead, adding, "Lieutenant Kin Ueno, pleased to make your acquaintance."

The gesture both baffled and enthralled my naïve, young mind. Inwardly I wondered what a "lieutenant" was, though admittedly I felt too embarrassed to ask.

"I'm Aina," I offered quietly, finally reaching for the container and slinging the strap over my right shoulder.

"Are we still strangers now, Aina?"

I shrugged, honestly unsure. I had never been told whether a stranger could somehow stop being a stranger, and if they could what the conditions for that would be.

"That water bag sure is impressive," he went on. "I wish I had one of those."

"You could make one."

Kin chuckled, readjusting his hat during the process.

"I don't know how. Where I come from, we don't need to make water bags. In fact, almost no one makes anything themselves."

I stared at Kin for a drawn out period of time, not comprehending his words.

"How do you hold water?" I inquired awkwardly.

"In bottles," he explained, reaching into his own side sling and retrieving from it a strange, ominous, black cylinder. At the very top there was a sort of spout that lifted kind of like a nipple.

I had never seen anything like it before, and I eyed it with child-like wonder and awe.

"Does that really hold water?"

He held it out to me and I told it carefully in both my hands, as though it were an explosive that might be set off if I moved too quickly. The material was hard and had no jagged edges. It made a soft "_ting_" sound against my fingernails. After a moment, Kin reached over and plucked at the spout, lifting it slightly higher.

"Now you can drink from it if you want to," he offered once he saw the confusion in my features.

I knew that Isamu would be irate if he discovered I had even considered drinking from the strange "bottle", but on the other hand I was quite absorbed by this concept of holding water in this contraption. Of course, if mother, father, or Isamu knew that I had spoken to this man at all they would be furious, so I supposed the hypothetical damage had already been done. Moving slowly so that I could hold my stare on the bottle as much as possible during the act, I raised the spout to my lips and sucked in. When I received no water, Kin gently tilted the bottle upwards on an angle to assist me.

The water was different than the water from the stream. It had no odor, but the taste was somehow completely isolate of the water I'd always had. When I finally pulled away, I spent a few more seconds inspecting the interesting container.

"If I give you a water sack like mine, may I keep this 'bottle'?" I asked hopefully, not ready to give up the treasure I had found.

To my good fortune, Kin simply smiled and leaned in to run his fingers once through my long, ashy hair.

"Can you meet me back here tomorrow afternoon then?"

I nodded almost too enthusiastically, bowing over and over to him and clutching the gift to my chest.

"Thank you!" I said on a seemingly endless loop.

Then I rushed back through the bushes, trying to think of a good place to hide my incredible new item that I was quite aware mother, father, and Isamu would not permit me to keep if they saw it.


	4. Date

A persistent, mechanical ringing lured me from the depth of my slumber. Without bothering to confront the struggle that I knew opening my eyes would be, I reached blindly over the couch's arm for the phone. I heard the lamp tremble and then fall, a shattering sound alerting me that the bulb had not survived the landing. I muttered as aggressively to myself as I could muster, finally seizing the receiver and bringing it to my ear.

"Hel-lo?" I murmured sluggishly into the mouthpiece.

"Ai-chan…?"

At the sound of Yusei's slightly concerned voice on my behalf, I immediately threw open my eyelids and rotated until I was in a sitting position. Naturally I should have expected him to be the one calling, as I had no other acquaintances that would know my number or bother to call. Nonetheless it was somehow exciting to hear from Yusei, as I was quite certain that after nearly three months on hiatus, the purpose of this conversation would be to discuss what he had found.

"I'm okay," I insisted dismissively, "I was just sleeping."

"Oh."

There was a pause, and I squirmed a bit in anxiousness for the news I so desired to hear. When still it did not come, I broke the silence myself.

"So tell me how the hunt is going? Have you found him?"

"The hunt?" he repeated back to me in a tone that suggested he hadn't been aware of the subject previously. After a second or two he added, "Oh, _that_. It's still a work in progress."

"How much 'progress' have you made so far?"

"Some."

"…How much is 'some'?"

"Plenty considering how little I have to go on."

"Well, I'd like to know."

"It's complicated. I promise you'll be the first to know the moment there are any significant leads."

I sighed irritably. My patience was admittedly wearing thin on the topic. If the Nakahara's connections could not locate my savior, I was running low on available options. The concept of just how difficult it was simply to determine one human's whereabouts put me in a painful position to confront just how large and intolerant the world beyond NGL really was.

In a low, defeated whisper, I said, "Is that all you called to say then?"

Yusei let out a velvety chuckle that was awkwardly mirthful enough to _almost_ lift my mood.

"Actually, I didn't call to even say that."

When he did not elaborate, I pressed, "Well what did you call to say?"

He cleared his throat not once but twice, in way that suggested superiority. Right away I understood that this was about something relating to his social status.

"My mother and father are hosting this year's 'Platinum Ball'."

"…and?"

He sighed.

"The fact is, Ai-chan, if I don't rustle up a date of my own I'll be expected to escort one of mother's 'oh-so-charming, dreadfully conventional' picks."

"I don't even know what a 'Platinum Ball' is."

"You don't need to know in order to come."

"…No, I meant '_what is_ a Platinum Ball'?"

Honestly, he could be quite dense on occasion. Sometimes I secretly appreciated it, as it made me feel far less out of touch.

"It's a yearly event held by the social elite."

"Oh," I replied flatly, still not understanding in the slightest.

"I'm not saying that you _have_ to do me a favor just because I'm working tirelessly to find this murderer beau of yours, you know. I was only asking you as a friend."

I ignored the rush of blood to my face and simply sighed inwardly. There it was; the guilt trip. When I had first become acquainted with Yusei at the clinic, he had used this method on me more often that I care to admit with consecutive successes. Once I had recognized the pattern, he reserved the use of this tactic for truly desperate situations. Thus, I deduced that he must have needed my help quite seriously.

"Okay, I'll go. Do I just meet you there?"

"Heavens, no! What kind of date do you take me for?"

"…A friend?" I guessed, mistaking his expression for an honest question.

He laughed.

"I'll have the driver stop by around six this evening with a dress for you and we'll go from there. Does that sound acceptable?"

"I guess."

"Excellent!" he exclaimed, his voice more giddy than it ought to have been.

* * *

The ceilings were high and arched, with lightly tinted glass sectioned off into many equally sized divisions. The stars were plainly visible on this particular night, and the sight of them was soothing to my initial discomfort upon entering the lavish ballroom. There were many people littering the delicately painted floors, and a band playing something I supposed would be considered 'classical' in genre. The women's dresses were unanimously long, and many wore fur shrugs around their shoulders. Most of the men were attired in identical, navy blue suits with a black strip hanging from around their necks; while a group of others wore matching black suits with a single bow tied at their collar and held circular trays in their hands.

"Why are those men wearing black?" I whispered in Yusei's ear after linking arms with him the way he had requested.

"Those are the waiters, Ai-chan."

"Oh."

With a weak smile in my direction, Yusei led me through the mass of people to a round table amidst all the others. He pulled out a chair and gestured for me to sit in it, which I did.

"I'll go get you a drink," he said, his voice mildly quivering.

As my eyes trailed Yusei's back until he disappeared into the crowd, I suddenly became aware of all the eyes that were tracing me. While outwardly I looked just like the many other ladies in my long, silky red dress and simple, black heels (despite the heel being squared and therefore easier to walk in, with my lack of experience), I could sense the definite scrutiny they had for me. I realized that while I could physically fit in perfectly that I was still so easily recognized by the rest as something of an imposter. The fact that they could identify this so effortlessly was as fascinating as it was embarrassing and frustrating.

Of course, I was used to isolation to an extent.

"Would you care to dance?"

I nearly jumped at the sound of Yusei's voice behind me, having not sensed his return. He set down a shining glass filled a quarter of the way with a deep, burgundy liquid on the table before me and then held out his hand to me palm up. I borrowed a moment to sip the drink, making a face at the bitter taste that then proceeded to burn my throat a bit going down.

I coughed a few times during an attempt to speak and then finally was able to respond in a huskier-than-usual voice.

"I don't really know any of the Yorkshin dances."

"Ai-chan, there aren't any 'Yorkshin dances'."

"Really?"

"Yes, really. This song that's playing now; it's just a waltz. I can teach you how to do it in no time flat."

"…I would rather just go outside for a bit. You can dance with someone else."

His features scrunched and I had to fight to suppress a laugh for his ego's sake.

"I can't just dance with someone else."

"Why not?"

"…_You're_ my date tonight, Ai-chan!"

"So you can only dance with your date?"

He started to speak a few times and then retracted the statements before he finally settled with a simple, "Yes."

"Yusei-san, Yorkshin sure has a lot of funny rules."

Again he repeated the cycle of beginning sentences and then trailing off.

"I suppose," he eventually sighed out. He scratched the back of his head, adding, "Well, if you don't want to dance right now, then I'll go find my parents so we can sit with them."

"I'll be outside!" I called after him as he trudged away.

* * *

The night air was far more satisfying than the stuffy inside had been, and for a moment I was able to forgive the polluted undertone ever present in the city. Ignoring the few couples chatting around me, I strolled over to the leveled, concave rock design at the edge of the strip of cobblestones. I leaned forth on the waist-high frame, thankful to be able to smell the perfume of the potted flowers more prominently now than the bitter stench lingering in the air.

The lights of the city shone brighter than the moon, minimizing its radiance and haunting beauty. This saddened me, and inwardly I craved just once more the opportunity to see the blanket of stars the way they were intended to be seen; clear and unobstructed by the vain distractions of man.

A piercing shriek from the opposite balcony woke me from my dream-like thoughts and encouraged me to rush in that direction. Apparently the sound had caused quite the disturbance among the other guests as well, as they milled around madly and aimlessly. It was a challenge simply to reach my destination through the scattering bodies.

Unrestrained by the same mannerisms and sense of arrogant dignity that the others were so shamelessly bred to uphold, I threw my shoulder into the mass of bystanders that had gathered about the second balcony and wormed my way to the front of the frantically chattering crowd.

On the ground was a man that at first I did not recognize. From behind, someone pushed past me and knelt next to the body. It was Yusei.

"Otosama…" he whispered, his voice hitching in disbelief. His eyes were wide and layered with agony as he shook his head over and over.

"Yusei-san…" I offered, placing my hand on the back of his left shoulder.

It was then that I saw the distinguishing mark, for the stunned, dead face of Yusei's father was showered with the protruding, decorative knobs of many long needles…

* * *

**A/N:**** I just wanted to give another quick thanks to Ria D'Arcy, and also to the "guest" that reviewed last chapter. Oh, and not to forget the followers and those who have favorited. Until next time.**


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